


Whisper My Name, and Mine Alone

by eatreadwritesleep



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Harry you silly boy how dare you, Infidelity, M/M, These boys have some serious talking to do, You've hurt Louis very badly, Zayn is a good bro, is not sexy at all, remember folks, so don't do it, two wrongs don't make a right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 11:04:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1686023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatreadwritesleep/pseuds/eatreadwritesleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt: Harry whispers Nick's name in bed, and Louis is very, very angry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this prompt: hello! Do you know of any fics where Harry accidentally moans out Grimshaw's name during sex or rimming or something of that sorts, and Louis get really really pissed, not necessarily overstimulation and bondage and non-con punishment louis! I just want a larry where Louis is pissed at Harry because of Nick, Louis can like, huff out, pissed beyond life and maybe flirt or kiss or sleep with someone because he's hurt and whatnot. {CAN I PROMPT THIS IF IT DOESN'T EXIST} Have a great day, thank you!

The thing is, Louis is literally balls deep when Harry gasps a name that is not his. Whatever rhythm he’d been working up stops immediately, and he stares down into Harry’s pretty green eyes. He remains that way, frozen mid thrust, stimulation lost on him as rage takes its place.

Nick Grimshaw. 

Louis would have been hurt either way, had Harry whispered anyone else’s name, but this is someone who he’s secretly compared himself to in times of self doubt and not even in the bedroom can he wipe that man from Harry’s existence.

He pulls out slowly, hearing Harry chanting his name in panicked horrified whispers but too gone to let it register, because Nick’s name in Harry’s voice rings louder. He grabs a towel and wraps it around himself.

Harry scrambles on wobbly legs, because he knows how he walks after sex, to reach for him but Louis is there in body, not mind, and Louis proceeds to walk out of their hotel room, into the hallways, past a completely baffled Paul, to knock on Zayn’s room.

Zayn answers quickly, bless him, takes in what must be a worrying look on Louis’ face, and wordlessly lets him in. Louis walks numbly to the shower, puts the water on scalding, and hopes it burns the feel of Harry whispering Nick’s name across him off his skin.

He turns red like his vision, and for a moment, he’s tempted to destroy everything, to break chairs and shatter glass and shove his hand into Harry’s skull and tear that man from the web he’s woven in his love’s mind.

But instead he cries. 

And cries.

And cries. 

Until Zayn scoops him up and dries him off and sings him to sleep.  
.  
.  
.

He wakes up and he is so sad. Zayn is still with him, darling Zayn, skin lighting up as the tv flashes in the dark room. As if sensing his consciousness, Zayn looks down.

“We cancelled whatever we had planned today. You slept through it.”

Louis thinks that’s weird, because is seemed to have gone down just a moment ago.

“Basically, you’ve been out almost a whole day Lou. Harry’s worried sick.”

Funny. 

“I want to go to a club.” Louis says, voice raspy from a day of crying and painful dreams.

Zayn cocks his head to the side. “He told me what happened after Liam threatened to strangle him.”

“He hurt me.” Louis says in reply, sitting up. He looks down at Zayn’s clothing on him. It’s comfortable.

He is so sad. And so angry. 

“Is this the right time-

“I’m going to find a pretty boy and make him whisper my name since Harry couldn’t.”

Zayn bites his lip, before nodding, because there is nothing but conviction in Louis’ tone and he knows better than to try and stop him now. 

“I’ll get ready then. You shouldn’t go alone.” Zayn says, standing up with Louis who shrugs in response and leaves just as he came.

Numb.

He knocks on his and Harry’s room door, and Niall opens the door, looking nervous. Louis walks past him, into their room where Harry is sitting on the bed with Liam. He doesn’t mean to look him over, but it’s instinct, icy blue eyes taking a quick glimpse at pale skin, chapped lips, and eyes burned red with tears.

“Lou.” Harry whispers, and Louis rummages around in his suitcase, finding one of his tightest trousers, black, a tight fitting collared shirt, black, a form fitting blazer, black, nice dress shoes, shiny, patent leather, black, his heart his black, everything is black, everything hurts.

He is so so angry. And sad.

“Where are you going?” Liam asks carefully, as if Louis would snap.

Louis wonders how he looks to the rest of the boys. They’re tiptoeing around him.

Harry is sniffling like he’s the one who’s really hurting. Louis wants to laugh but knows it’ll turn to screams. 

“A club with Zayn.”

He feels the boys’ gazes shift between one and the other.

“Why don’t we come with?” Niall suggests, and Louis shrugs.

“Can...can I come too, Lou?” asks Harry timidly, and he hears the fear in Harry’s tone.

Louis shrugs again. Who was he to stop Harry from tagging along? Who was he to stop Harry from whispering Nick’s name? 

He steps into the bathroom and changes quickly. He just wants to be there. When he steps back out, he hears the familiar gasps of Harry appraising what moments ago was freely his. 

Louis grabs his phone and wallet and walks out. He sits on Zayn’s couch, and Zayn thrusts a plate of leftovers for Louis to eat.

“You’re not drinking on an empty stomach, no matter how upset you are.”

Louis eats and tastes nothing but the tongue of the man he loves whispering a name that is not his. 

They all come to Zayn’s room when they’re ready, and Louis wishes he didn’t like what he saw when Harry was dressed to the nines. He focuses on his phone as the ride to the club passes in a blur. He feels gazes he doesn’t want and closes his eyes. When he’s back to himself, they’re seated at a round table with multiple drinks decorating the sleek black marble. He takes a few shots, before sipping at something fruity, eyes roaming the crowd.

He needs to find a pretty boy. 

He finds one.

He has jet black hair, fairly long and pulled into a bun. A white shirt, open to the fourth button, fits loosely on his skin, tight black trousers and a nice pair of black shoes. He’s dancing with a girl.

He’s gorgeous. Louis gets up, moving through the crowd, feels Harry’s eyes follow him. He passes the boy on the dance floor, glances his way, catches his gaze, and heads to the bar. Before long, he’s not alone.

Louis now knows something must be different in his aura that people haven’t approached him uninvited. But this boy knows what Louis wants. Him. He leans to whisper in his ear.

“That was quite the look you gave me back there.” he says, voice sultry, seductive.

Poor thing, he must think he’s in control. Louis tilts his head back to bore into his gaze. Hazel eyes widen.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Louis asks in response. 

The boy takes a step back and Louis swivels around on the barstool. He looks this boy up and down, and yes, he will do nicely. Louis apologizes softly for the PR that will have to be done when this night is over, as he reaches for the boy’s waist and tugs him closer. He reaches for his neck, pulling him down and rubs his nose along the side of it, gazing across the dance floor, through the throng of writhing bodies, to meet Harry’s dark eyed stare.

“Care to dance?” Louis asks, and the boy nods, lost for words.

Louis smiles, pushing him back and taking his wrist, tugging him past the crowd until his directly within Harry’s line of sight. A song with a heavy base and whispered words plays, and Louis turns around, the boy standing behind him.

Louis does not consider himself a dancer by any means, but he knows how to make a man tremble. They manage to get into some sort of rhythm, Louis’ ass grinding against this strangers crotch in a way that has him gasping softly in his ear. Louis closes his eyes, allows this boy’s hands to roam, ghosting across the zipper of his pants, cupping his arse, trailing against his thighs.

Louis smirks, tugging him to a booth beside where the rest of the boys sit uncomfortably in a relatively private area. He shoves the boy into the seat, crawling on his lap.

It’s quieter here. They can hear them. Louis works magic, tongue trailing along the veins of this boy’s neck, crotch grinding against his. He tugs the boy’s hair out of his bun, and wow, beautiful black locks cascade down and Louis runs his hands through it.

He feels the erection pressed against him, and he looks into hazel eyes, not green, steels himself, and asks for permission.

“Can I?” Louis asks softly, and the boy nods, almost frantic. 

He unzips his pants, pulls him free, and ghosts his fingers against his length. The boys moans.

“Do you know my name?” Louis asks.

“Louis?”

“Very good.” Louis commends, before reaching into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet where a condom and small packet of lube resides. He tears the packet open with his teeth, spitting the plastic away from them, squirting it into his hands.

He looks into the boy’s eyes.

“Say my name.” Louis commands.

“Louis.” he says, voice turning to a squeak when Louis’ hand resumes.

“Louder.”

“Louis.” he says, in a loud gasp, and Louis rewards him with a particular flick of the wrist he knows Harry loves. The guy’s hips thrust upwards, and he yells Louis’ name this time.

Louis laughs, heart beating hard with the thought of whatever circumstance Harry must have been in with Nick that he thought of him in that context. 

The pretty boy is moaning in earnest now, and Louis watches, entranced. He thinks of Harry, more Harry, and for a moment, shame fills him, what is he doing, how do two wrongs make a right? But then he pictures the look in Harry’s face as he’d moaned, eyes fluttering, lips red and wet, chest heaving, a name that wasn’t his escaping his mouth…

Anger easily overcomes the guilt. The need for him to hurt trumps all, and yes, this boy his chanting his name like a prayer and Louis leans to rest his forehead against this man’s, feeling the breath of his name ghosting across his face.

It shouldn’t make him feel so good but he is so sad and he needs to hear it.

“Louis.”

This time, the voice that says it is familiar.

He continues the motions of his hand as he turns to meet Harry’s eyes, and Harry is a sight to behold, fists clenched, face red, gritted teeth, shuddering with a rage that makes Louis shiver.

Good.

“I’m not finished Harry.” he says simply, and grabs a napkin to hold and waits until he knows the man in his hand is about to unravel, catching his seed and tossing it on the table behind him.

“You’ve been a very good boy.” Louis whispers, and gives him a soft kiss and a pat on the check before standing.

He grabs the collar of Harry’s shirt, tugging him to a nearby restroom. The door slams behind them and he locks it, before turning around and shoving Harry roughly into the wall.

Harry grunts at the impact and Louis goes to the sink, washing his hands and drying them. He stares at Harry for a moment and then rushes forward, clutching Harry’s jaw in his hands and pulling the taller boy down to meet his eyes.

“What is my name, Harry?” he asks softly, voice trembling with a raw unbridled rage.

“Louis.” Harry replies in a tone to match.

“Are you angry?” Louis asks.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Lou-

Louis rips open Harry’s shirt, the buttons scattering across the dirty restroom tile. He licks the skin of Harry’s nipple, slowly, before sucking it. Harry moans, long and oh so very beautiful. Louis smiles, and then bites, loving Harry screech. He knows when Harry is in pain, and this is anything but.

“I’m going to suck his name from your mind.” Louis says, unbuckling Harry’s pants, and Harry whimpers.

“I’m so sorry.” he gasps out, and Louis looks into his eyes, seeing nothing but true honesty.

“I know baby.” Louis says quietly.

Harry cups his cheeks.

“I’ll never touch another boy like that again.” Louis promises.

Harry breathes out, shoulders sagging in relief.

“And you will never in your right mind whisper another man’s name like that again. You are mine and I am yours. We belong to each other. There is no sharing.”

Harry nods.

“Thank you Harry. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Louis drops to his knees.

“Now you will scream my name, and no one else’s.” Louis states, gazing up at Harry through his lashes with hallowed cheeks.

And oh, does Harry obey.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much needed talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took your comments into account, and hopefully this leaves a better ending instead of that insane crap fest the first chapter was. Thanks for your criticisms. I'm working hard to improve. :)

Harry wakes up first. He blinks slowly, eyes adjusting to the light of the room, before glancing at the male beside him. The covers end just before the curve of his arse, sunlight sitting warm against his tanned skin.

 

He’s beautiful. Carefully, Harry reaches over and traces the length of Louis' spine, stopping for a moment when Louis huffs in his sleep, before continuing a path up the back of his neck, ending at the soft tufts of his hair.

 

Louis shifts in his sleep, head turning to face Harry and blue eyes blinking open, immediately finding his green eyed gaze.

 

“You’re crying.” Louis says softly, and Harry touches his cheek, surprised at the wetness.

 

Louis sighs softly, and sits up, walking out of the room. Harry hears the clinking of glass, the sound of the sink running, the roar of the kettle, and before long, his love returns with two mugs of steaming hot tea.

 

He’s still crying. He takes the mug offered to him and stares down at the piping hot liquid.

 

“I didn’t mean too.” Harry says eventually, breaking the silence.

 

Louis turns to look at him, waiting for him to continue.

 

“That doesn’t make it right, but I honestly didn’t mean too. You were with Eleanor and I was so angry. I wanted to know why it was such a big deal that I liked dick, and for a moment I just wanted to make them angry, I wanted to annoy them. I was at Nick’s house and I just, I needed something and you weren’t there. We got drunk and I woke up and we were both naked and I knew we had sex. I…I was so terrified of you finding out. I didn’t sleep with you for three weeks after.”

 

Louis remembers that. For a moment he’d thought he done something wrong, and that Harry hadn’t wanted him anymore. Harry wouldn’t let Louis touch him and Louis had felt so alone.

 

“When we were having sex last time I was thinking about how I’d betrayed you. And I said his name instead of yours.”

 

Louis sets his mug down on the bedside table so he doesn’t scald himself. His hands tremble so violently he clenches them together, hoping it would stop.

 

“I’m so-

 

“Don’t.” Louis interrupts, and Harry clamps his mouth shut. “I gave a guy a hand-job in front of your face just to make you feel like I felt. Don’t apologize, Harry.”

 

Harry stays quiet for a while, and Louis focuses on breathing. His head hurts and the room is spinning and only half his heart is beating because the rest belongs to Harry and he’s scared he’ll lose it.

 

The post sex haze is gone, the alcohol has faded from their systems, and all that remains is hard truth and bleeding souls.

 

Louis iss angry. Angry at what happened between Harry and Nick, and angry at himself. Angry that he’s been so stupid, and so cruel. Angry that he thought he was the only one suffering.

 

How could he do this?

 

“I’m sorry.” Louis whispers, voice cracking. “God I’m so sorry, Harry. The whole time I was with him I was thinking of you and me doing that, me having been with him because you had been with someone else and that doesn’t make things right.”

 

“It doesn’t.” Harry agrees, and Louis can feel his stomach churning.

 

He’s going to vomit, and then maybe he’ll curl up on the floor and die.

 

“But I forgive yo-

 

“Don’t.” Louis interrupts again, because he’s such a bad person, a horrible person, he _cheated_ on his boyfriend in front of his face, he had his hand on another man’s dick in front of his face, and then he had the nerve to shove Harry around and suck him off like things were okay.

 

Like that was acceptable.

 

“I cheated on you Louis.” Harry says, placing his mug down as well and turning to face him. “And you cheated on me in return. And it’s sick and it’s disgusting that we could ever think of doing these things to each other. And maybe it shows just how much we need to work out between us, and learn, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. And that doesn’t mean I can’t forgive you-

 

“Har-

 

“I can make my own decisions.” Harry continues sharply, and Louis shuts up, because Harry is furious.

 

“I’m so upset that this happened. I’m so upset that I slept with Nick, and I’m so upset that you thought it would be right to hurt me like that as payback.”

 

Louis chokes back a sob.

 

“But I love you.”

 

Louis shakes his head, and Harry grabs his shoulders, squeezing hard. “Don’t you dare act like my love is not enough.”

 

Harry is crying again. “I really hurt you Lou. And you really hurt me too. And I’m sorry, and I forgive you, okay? Do you forgive me?”

 

He does, Louis thinks. How could he not? But he hesitates to say, because he doesn’t deserve Harry. And he knows it, because even still, he’s sitting here thinking about himself as if he’s innocent. As if he has the right to feel sorry for himself after what he did.

 

“I should have told you when it happened. I should have been a better person and not slept with someone else just because I was upset.” Harry states. “And you should have stayed with Zayn in his room, and you should have taken some time to cool down, and then you should have come to me and asked what the hell was wrong with me instead of going off with another man. But we can’t change that.”

 

Harry bites his lip, taking his hands off Louis’ shoulders to wipe at his eyes.

 

“We can’t change that. But we can move forward.”

 

Louis just stares.

 

“I forgive you Louis, and that doesn’t make what you did okay, but I forgive you. Yes you hurt me, badly and yes, I hurt you, too, and yes, we definitely could have handled this better, but I don’t want this to tear us apart.”

 

“You deserve better.” Louis mumbles, and Harry laughs angrily.

 

“Stop telling me what I can and cannot do. Stop telling me what and who I deserve. You shoved me around last night but you won’t now. Listen to me. I. Forgive. You.”

 

Again, Louis’ mind whirls, and he fists his hands in the covers to ground himself as best as he can. It takes a while, but finally, his heart slows down enough for him to think relatively straight.

 

“I forgive you too.”

 

Louis opens his eyes and meets Harry’s expectant face. He forces his mouth to cooperate, and continues. “You were wrong to sleep with Nick. It’s not my fault they make me do things with her. But I was wrong to cheat back. I was wrong to hurt you like that. I was wrong for wanting you to hurt like that. And there’s no excuse for what either of us did but…I forgive you too. And I…I don’t want this to end. So if you’ll really have me after what I did-

 

Harry kisses him, soft, and slow, but it’s filled with a heavy desperation and pain and overwhelming need and Louis can’t help but gasp, hands raising midair beside either side of his face in some strange gesture of surrender, letting whatever was happening take over, and Harry locks their fingers together.

 

There is nothing sexual about the kiss. Instead there is hurt, and there is anger, and there is a bone-deep sadness, but there is also love, raw unconditional love that has them both shuddering.

 

They separate, fingers still locked, gazing into each other’s watery gazes.

 

“Will we be alright?” Louis asks, hoping for a good answer and willing to accept the possibility of a failure he definitely deserves.

 

“Yea, we’ll be alright.” Harry responds.

 

They lean forward, touch their foreheads together, and just breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always appreciate feedback. Thanks for reading.


End file.
